Six Styles Challenge
by WildheartTheWarrior
Summary: Six chapters, six styles, six days. For the Warriors Challenge Forum.
1. 1: Drabble

**A/N: Another challenge for the Warriors Challenge Forum! This time, it's the Six Style Challenge! First up, the 100-word drabble!**

**~000~**

As I stood before StarClan for my judgement, I could feel their emotions ripping through me like claws.

Anger, that I had almost destroyed ShadowClan in my quest for vengeance.

Pity, that the quiet-but-kind apprentice had been warped into a murdering monster.

Disappointment. I could have been a great warrior. But I let my rage destroy me. I had sent innocent cats to StarClan, just to get even with Birdstar. I deserved the worst.

My remorse saved me. Instead of eternal punishment, they sent my spirit to the world of the living to wait for a chance.

A chance for my redemption.

**~000~**

**...Well, that was horrible. Oh, well.**


	2. 2: Difficult POV

**Sorry this is so late! I had it written, but every time I went to put it up, the computer started acting up again. :/**

Anyways, for the second chapter, you had to write a one-shot in a POV you don't normally use. So I went with first-person, present tense because I don't think I've EVER used it. Enjoy!

~000~

I pad through the entrance to camp, my single catch dangling from my jaws. Snow was drifting slowly down from the clouded sky, settling gently into my golden pelt. Leaf-bare had come to the Clans at last—meaning that we, the warriors, were going to have to work extra-hard to keep our Clan fed.

The mouse in my jaws was still warm. It was one of the few left in ThunderClan's forest...yet I march right past the fresh-kill pile without adding it. Oh, no. This mouse was for someone special.

ThunderClan's nursery was safely protected inside the roots of a tree that fell into the camp many seasons ago—during the rule of the great Firestar himself. And it is here that I bring my prey. Stepping past a few other warriors, I push my head inside.

There's only one nest in the nursery at this point. Curled inside it is a small, pale ginger she-cat, belly rounded with kits.

My beautiful Ripplebreeze.

As I enter, Ripplebreeze blinks open her bright blue eyes. She looks tired, but she smiles up at me. "Hello, Bumblepelt," she purrs, reaching up to touch noses with me.

I purr back and brush my muzzle against hers, laying my mouse at her paws. "I caught this for you," I tell her.

She blinks at it, and smiles up at me. "Thank you, Bumblepelt," she says softly. As she dips her head to take a bite, she suddenly lets put a yelp of pain.

"Ripplebreeze?" I take a step forward, pale green gaze filling with concern. "What's wrong?" I scan the moss lining of her nest. "Is there a thorn in your bedding?"

But as she looks up at me, and our gazes meet, we both know exactly what is wrong.

"It's the kits," she murmurs. "They're coming early.

It takes a few moments for what she said to sink in.

_Ripplebreeze's kits are coming. They're coming now._

With the speed born of my warrior training, I leap to my paws and race out of the nursery. "Briarstream!" I yowl.

Across camp, a messy-furred, gray-and-white she-cat poked her head out of the medicine den. "Bumblepelt?" she asks, blinking sleepily. "What's wrong?"

I shoot her a desperate look. "It's the kits," I pant. "They're coming. Now."

In an instant, the medicine cat snaps into action. She ducks back into her den, re-emerging a few moments later with a bundle of herbs in her mouth. Pounding across the camp, she shoves past the warriors who have begun to gather around the nursery. As she pushes inside, I try to follow her—only to be blocked by Briarstream's spiky tail. "No, Bumblepelt," she tells me curtly. "I need you to stay out here."

"But—"

"Please," she interrupts, green eyes strained. "I can't help Ripplebreeze if you're in my way."

After a few moments, I sigh and step back, resigning myself to the den's entrance. Briarstream gives me a small, comforting smile. Then she disappeared into the nursery, leaving me alone outside.

**~000~**

I pace back and forth on the snowy ground. It seems as if the kitting has gone on for moons; I'm almost sure they're not supposed to take this long. Every time I hear my mate's cries split the air, I feel as if claws are tearing into my own heart. My anxious mind keeps coming up with terrifying scenarios: Ripplebreeze lying in her nest, her life bleeding out before my eyes; her tiny kits lying beside her, unmoving and limp. I try to push the images away, but they continue to linger in the back of my mind.

Out of the blue, Ripplebreeze lets out her loudest yowl yet...and she isn't alone. Joining her cry is a high, loud wail—the wail of a kit.

I wait, my heart fluttering wildly. Then Briarstream steps out, and a glimmer of hope rises in my chest at the smile on her face. "Come meet your kit, Bumblepelt," she meows.

I hesitate. _Just one kit?_ But my paws are already moving, guiding me through the brambles and into the nursery itself.

Ripplebreeze looks exhausted. But her bright blue eyes are sparkling with joy as she gazes up at me. And there, curled by her side, is a tiny, squirming kit.

Her fur is the same ginger color as her mother's. But zig-zagging across her kit-soft pelt are thin, darker stripes—like mine.

At first, I can do nothing but stare as a feeling of awe creeps slowly over me.

This is my kit. _My_ kit.

I start to laugh. "This is our kit," I manage to meow.

Ripplebreeze, tired as she is, laughs with me.

"She looks like you," I say, still staring down at our daughter, who is now kneading at Ripplebreeze's belly and purring contentedly.

"Except for the stripes," my mate chuckles. "Those are all yours."

I smile as she gives a particularly violent kick. "She's strong," I meow, gently leaning down to nuzzle her. Under my touch, her purr grows even louder.

"Her name is Tigerkit," Ripplebreeze says.

I glance up in surprise. Tigerkit isn't usually a name given to she-cats. But as I look back down at the ginger kit, I can already see the strength, the energy in her tiny form.

"Tigerkit," I repeat, staring down at the two of them. My beautiful mate...and my beautiful kit.

"It's perfect."


	3. 3: A Story Without Speech

It happened without warning.

One moment, the ShadowClan camp was quiet. Warriors were milling about the clearing, gnawing on fresh-kill and murmuring to one another. The elders were resting by their den, drinking in the last few rays of sunlight. By the nursery, kits wrestled, scuffing up dust and pine needles under the watchful gazes of their mothers.

And in a single instant, that peace shattered.

Battle yowls sounded outside the walls of the camp. Enemy RiverClan warriors began streaming around the boulder that protected the camp.

For a few moments, the ShadowClan cats could do nothing but stare in horror. Then they sprang into action, leaping back at the invaders with unsheathed claws and bared fangs. The elders and kits were shepherded into the nursery together, kept safe by the snarling queens who defended the entrance.

The once-peaceful camp had dissolved into utter chaos in the midst of the battle. The ShadowClanners fought with ferocity; their eyes burned with the fire of battle, and each cat threw their blows with all the willpower they had. No cat in that camp would tolerate the invasion of their home.

Yet, for those who looked, the RiverClan warriors seemed reluctant. Their strikes were half-hearted; their eyes flashed with uncertainty as they fought. Only Pikestar, the RiverClan leader, fought with the same vigor as ShadowClan.

Among the battling cats, a sudden cry broke through the noise. Every cat stopped dead.

There, lying at the foot of the Highbranch, was a tabby she-cat. The Clan's deputy lay unmoving on the camp floor, teeth still bared in a yowl that would never come. Over her stood a RiverClan warrior, face twisted with anguish as he realized what he had done.

Another yowl broke the silence. Hailstar bounded across the clearing and buried his muzzle in his dead mate's fur. Cats from both Clans stared as ShadowClan's young leader lifted his head to glare at RiverClan. His warriors padded up to join him, forming a single, menacing line facing the invaders. Their gazes sent a clear message: _Leave now. Never return._

And RiverClan did just that. They darted out of the ShadowClan camp without looking back.

The line of warriors remained there for what seemed like moons. Then, as one, they broke apart to join Hailstar in mourning the warrior's death.

No cat said a single word. There was nothing to be said.

**~000~**

Eh...this isn't my best. Hopefully I can do better on the next one.


	4. 4: An All Speech Story

"...Huh? Who's there?"

_"Calm down, Larkflight! It's just me."_

"...Oh. Hey, Scarpaw!"

_"What are you doing out here?"_

"Just thinking."

_"..."_

"..."

_"Larkflight?"_

"Yes, Scarpaw?"

_"There's...something I want to tell you."_

"Really? There's something I wanted to tell you, too."

_"Oh...okay. You go first."_

"Okay..."

_"What is it?"_

"Well...Hailstorm asked me to be his mate!"

_"Wh-what?"_

"And I said yes! To the tom of my dreams! Isn't it exciting, Scarpaw?"

_"..."_

"Scarpaw?"

_"Oh...that's...that's great, Larkflight!"_

"Scarpaw, what's wrong? You look upset..."

_"N-nothing's wrong! I'm...I'm happy for you! Both of you!"_

"Scarpaw, you're my best friend. I know you better than...oh, StarClan. That's what you were going to ask me, wasn't it?"

_"What? N-no! Of course not—"_

"Oh, Scarpaw, I'm sorry! I didn't know—"

_"No, Larkflight, it's okay! I..."_

"Scarpaw—"

_"I...I have to go!"_

"No, Scarpaw, come back! Scarpaw? Scarpaw!"

_"..."_

"Oh, StarClan...what have I done?"


	5. 5: A Poem

**A/N: I suck at poetry...hopefully this isn't too horrible. Thankfully, I have a really good idea for the songfic chapter! So until then, enjoy!**

Once, we were warriors  
Like you  
We hunted  
We fought  
We served our Clans

But we were also traitors  
We were murderers  
Liars  
And thieves  
We defied the stars  
For a darker path

Justice found us at long last  
Struck us down  
One by one  
Sent from this life  
In a flash of claws  
And teeth

We expected glory  
Welcome  
But the cats of the stars  
Banished us to the darkness for our crimes

Evil, they call us  
But are we really?  
We only did  
What we thought  
Was best

Our minds have twisted here  
Distorted by anger  
Betrayal  
And guilt  
Driving us on towards one goal  
Revenge

Now they ignore us  
Act like we don't exist  
But we're still here  
We walk in the shadows  
We haunt your nightmares  
And we will be heard

We are the Dark Forest  
And we  
Will rise  
Again.


	6. 6: Songfic, All I Ask of You Reprise

**A/N: ...Aaaand here's the final chapter: a songfic! And this time, I'm actually using canon characters!**

**Song Used: All I Ask of You (Reprise) from The Phantom of the Opera**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors or The Phantom of the Opera.**

* * *

**All Ashfur Asked Of Squirrelflight**

**~000~**

_**I gave you my music  
Made your song take wing  
And now, how you've repaid me  
Denied me and betrayed me  
He was bound to love you  
When he heard you sing...**_

**~000~**

Everything was peaceful. The night sky glittered with stars, and the lake was crystal-clear. Crickets sang quietly from their hiding spots in the grass, and a few stray fireflies flitted lazily about.

Two cats sat by the side of the lake, their tails entwined and soft purrs rumbling in their throats as they stared out over the lake.

The ginger she-cat lifted her head. "We should be getting back to camp," she meowed. "Firestar's probably wondering where we are." She stood, twitching her ears. "Come on, Brambleclaw," she purred.

The tom stood, shaking out his pelt. He looked back over at her. Amber met green, and their gazes held for a long time.

"I love you, Squirrelflight," Brambleclaw meowed.

Squirrelflight returned his gaze. "I love you too, Brambleclaw."

She flicked his ear with her tail, a mischievous glint appearing in her gaze. "C'mon, mousebrain," she teased. "Race you back to camp!" She took off running, leaving Brambleclaw blinking. Then he smiled. "You're on!" He sprinted after her, laughing and kicking up a cloud of dust as he ran.

Neither of them had noticed the gray tom who had been crouched in the bushes. The one who'd seen everything.

Ashfur padded out of his hiding place slowly. His eyes were still fixed on the spot where the two lovers had disappeared. And from the look on his face, you would think that someone had just ripped out his heart.

Which, in a way, someone just had.

"I was always there for you, Squirrelflight." Ashfur didn't even seem to know he was speaking. He was still staring off into space, a look of utter anguish on his face.

"I was there for you when Brambleclaw pushed you away. I was there to comfort you...to protect you...to guide you."

And how had she repaid him? By throwing him away like crow-food. The very heartbeat Brambleclaw had come crawling back to her, she betrayed him. She abandoned him for that fox-heart.

Tears were beginning to well up in the corners of his eyes. Ashfur finally lowered his head, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Of course he would love you," he whispered. "You were the most perfect she-cat in the world."

When he lifted his head again, Ashfur looked...broken. He opened his mouth again and uttered four simple words.

"How could you, Squirrelflight?"

The dam broke; Ashfur's agony became too much for him to bear. His paws gave way beneath him, sending him crashing to the ground. Tears spilled freely down his cheeks now, wetting his ash-gray fur as he gasped for air. He continued to cry quietly, muttering _her _name over and over as the images he'd seen replayed themselves in his mind.

Squirrelflight, pressing her head into Brambleclaw's tabby pelt. Promising her love to him instead of Ashfur. Purring to each other as Ashfur watched on, helpless as Brambleclaw stole her away from him.

Suddenly, it hit him like a lightning strike.

This wasn't Brambleclaw's fault.

This was _Squirrelflight's._

It had been _her_ who wronged him, not Brambleclaw. _She_ had been the one to toss him aside after everything he did for her.

It was _her_ who deserved to pay.

In that instant, anguish turned to fury. With the strength born from pure rage, Ashfur dragged himself to his paws, his dark blue eyes burning like fire as he turned his gaze to the sky.

_"You will curse the day you did not do all that Ashfur asked of you!"_

* * *

The flames licked at the brush around him, but Ashfur didn't care.

Because tonight, after moons of waiting, Squirrelflight would finally pay.

Before him, trembling in the midst of the fire, were Squirrelflight's three grown kits. Their gazes were filled with pure terror as they stared at the branch that would lead them to safety. The one that he was blocking.

Ashfur turned his gaze back to the cat he once loved. Her eyes-like two glittering emeralds-were filled with a mixture of fear and rage. And they reflected the exact same question he had asked that night, seasons ago.

_How could you, Ashfur?_

A strange feeling was roiling inside him as he stood there amongst the searing flames. It stretched his face into an insane grin as he leered down at them all.

It was in that moment that the remainder of his sanity deserted him.

Laughter began to issue from his throat; a chilling, cackling sound that would make any sane cat's fur stand on end. It grew louder and louder, until finally it filled the air as the gray tom stood there, howling his triumph to the sky.

* * *

**...Yeah, I know that's not how it happened in the book, but still.**


End file.
